


not what i asked for

by CapriciousCrab



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Identity Issues, Introspection, M/M, Therapy, Uncertainty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-31
Updated: 2018-12-31
Packaged: 2019-10-01 09:42:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,825
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17241941
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CapriciousCrab/pseuds/CapriciousCrab
Summary: 2019 brings the promise of change... and leaves Phil grappling with an identity crisis.





	not what i asked for

He waits, nervously plucking at the carefully placed tear in his jeans. The pale flesh of his thigh peeks through the ripped and torn material, startlingly white against the deep black. He’s not really sure why he chose these jeans this morning but he’s thankful now for the impulse as his fingers worry the frayed threads that stretch across his knee.

Dan would say it's some kind of statement, a subtle ‘fuck you’ to the people who had expressed disbelief that he could actually be fashionable enough to wear them. He'd assign some thoughtful meaning to Phil's trouser choice because Dan actually thinks that way, his mind filled with philosophical gems that he’s eager to share.  
  
Phil isn't that deep. He wore them because they're Dan’s.  
  
It’s silly, he thinks as he checks the time on the clock that's ticking loudly in the silence of this waiting room. Surely he’s too old to need a comfort item, such as it is. But here he sits in his boyfriend's jeans, hoping that this small reminder of home will help keep the anxiety at bay while he spills his guts to the only person besides Dan who sees him this way.  
  
He startles when his phone vibrates in his pocket. He digs it out and unlocks the screen with clammy hands and unsteady fingers. The message waiting for him serves both as a reminder and a comfort.

  
  
_Dan: text me after. I'll order pizza._

  
  
He smiles like an idiot at his phone before dropping it into his lap in a flurry of embarrassed guilt when the door opens. He stands quickly and stuffs it into his pocket, offering the woman standing there a weak smile.

  
  
“Phil, it's good to see you. Come on back," she says, waving him forward with a smile. It's as friendly and sincere as she is, managing to be both professional and warm. “Would you like a coffee today? I bought some of that blend you recommended and you were right, I did love it!”

  
  
She guides him toward her office and brews him a cup, keeping up a stream of light-hearted chatter. She knows him well; knows that he takes his coffee with two sugars and a splash of milk, knows that too much silence amplifies the noise in his head. So she talks about the holiday and her family and asks after his as they settle into their chairs with steaming cups of coffee.  
  
It's pleasant. And he can almost fool himself into believing that this is just another social call that’s he’s paying until she looks at him with a shrewd gaze.

  
  
“How are you, Phil?”

  
  
He could lie. He has before, trying to maintain the carefully cultivated façade of affable, cheerful, slightly daffy man that he presents to the world. But he doesn’t want to pretend this time. This time feels too important to bluff his way through.

  
  
But determination doesn't make his mouth work any better, his tongue thick and clumsy as he stammers his way through his reply. “Uh, well, you know… not well, actually.”

  
  
She looks surprised by his candor before schooling her expression into what he calls her ‘listening face'. It had made him nervous at first, to be the sole focus of all that attention.  
  
She sits back in her chair and blows across the surface of her cup before taking a sip. It's one of the things he likes best about Jen, she never rushes him to continue talking or pushes him when he's not ready. She's content to follow his lead, no matter how long it takes him.

  
  
“Do you want to tell me about it?” she asks, lowering her cup to the side table. She rests her hands in her lap, and he notices how festive her nails are, carefully painted a wine red and decorated with tasteful gold swirls. They're pretty, and he can't help but think how nice Dan’s nails would look like that, how it would be fun to paint them up for him. But Phil's shit at nail painting and Dan’s not much better. Maybe Cornelia could…

  
  
“Phil?”

  
  
He reels in his wandering thoughts and offers her an apologetic smile. “Sorry. Got a bit distracted.”

  
  
“I noticed” she chuckled, offering him a smile in return.“Do you need a bit more time? I can make us another cup of coffee if you'd like.”

  
  
She's so patient with him, he thinks. So calm and just bloody nice and he's suddenly overwhelmed with gratitude that she understands him so well.

  
  
“I really shouldn't. Dan will kill me if I come home twitchy and overcaffeinated.”

  
  
She laughs and nods her head, well used to hearing Phil talk about Dan. He's been the subject of many of their sessions but that’s not what today is about.

  
  
“I feel stupid,” he sighs. He ignores the look Jen gives him at that as they’ve gone around that subject before. He can't help the way he feels when talking about the mess in his brain and doesn’t feel up to another discussion about the way he constantly belittles his emotions.

  
  
“It's just… my birthday is coming up, you know? Another year closer to death.” He gives a wry smile, one that doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

  
  
“Hmm, perhaps. I suppose you could look at it that way" she says as she watches his fingers drum a random pattern on his knee. “Or you could think of it as another year of discovery, of trying new things.”

  
  
He smiles at her intentional use of his catchphrase, a more genuine one this time.

  
  
“The last time we spoke you mentioned plans for the upcoming year. More personal, less public for you and Dan. Has that changed?” she asks. She rises and collects their mugs, bringing them to the brewer.

  
  
He watches as she makes them each another cup of coffee, decaf this time. It gives him time to gather his thoughts without pressure.

  
  
“We got tickets to the theatre. To see Waitress the musical. The one with Sarah Bareilles, you know? Dan's excited. We’re both excited…” his voice trails off. It seems random, apropos of nothing, but she doesn’t miss a beat.

  
  
“But?” Jen asks as she hands him his coffee. She's used to the way he thinks; knows his starts and stops, his sidetracked rambling, and understands when to question and when to wait.

  
  
“There’s this song, you know? It’s a big moment in the play, where the main character sings about how this isn't the life she wanted, that she's not even the same person anymore. And it stuck with me.”

  
  
She raises an eyebrow at that.

  
  
“Alright, yes I’ve been fixating,” he admits. It’s something he’s been working on since he’s been coming to see her, to varying degrees of success. “It's a sad sort of song, the kind that makes you think about things.”

  
  
“Ah, one of those types of songs then?”

  
  
“Yeah.”

  
  
“You know, there’s a song like that that gets me every time I hear it. It's an older one by 3 Doors Down, but it also touches on the subject of identity and the struggle to be your own person.”

  
  
He rises to his feet and paces to the window, leaning his head against the cool glass. He can see the people down below on the pavement, bustling about their business while he has an identity crisis ten stories above them. “See, that’s just it. I don’t feel like I even know how to _be_ myself anymore” he chokes out. He's ridiculously close to tearing up so he takes a few deep breaths to try and calm himself.  
  
“I know how to be Amazing Phil and I know how to be Phil of Dan and Phil. But with the tour over and the hiatus… I don't really know how to get back to being, you know, just Phil.” he says with a grimace.

  
She frowns a little at that. “You don’t seem too fond of 'just Phil'. Why do you think that is?”

  
  
The question catches him off guard as he brings his head around to meet her gaze. “I-I don't know.” he stammers. His hands are sweaty, so he rubs the palms against his jeans before coming back to sit in his chair. He lets out a shaky breath as his knee starts bouncing with nervous energy seeking an outlet. He can feel the tremor in his fingers increase, so he twists them together in a fruitless effort to still them.

  
  
“It's not that I don’t like myself, I don’t think. I just don’t know how to get back to being that person I used to be," he sighs. “When things happened and everything got crazy, I changed. It was just easier to push certain parts of me down and hide it away.”

  
  
Jen hums noncommittally, sipping once more at her coffee before speaking. “Was it really easier Phil? Or was it safer?” she asks gently.

  
  
His eyes flick up from the surface of his coffee to her face. Her eyes are filled with compassion and understanding so it doesn't feel scary when he answers.

  
  
“Safer,” he murmurs quietly. “Things were a mess then and Dan… we needed to change things to make it safer. But it hurt.”

  
  
It still hurts when he thinks of it. Not in that sharp, tearing way it once did but as a muted echo of past pain. The kind that bears no mark but aches every now and again in remembrance.

  
  
It aches now when he thinks back to the carefree young man he once was; brimming with love and happiness, unashamed to let everyone see.

  
“Dan lashed out and you repressed.”

  
  
She knows the history, knows his and Dan's history, so he gives a halfhearted shrug and nods.

  
  
She reaches out to touch his knee, giving him a little pat of sympathy and comfort. “You know that both of those reactions are typical flight or fight responses to a threat. We've discussed this before, and you know that you both handled it the only way you knew how.”

  
  
She sits back and continues, “but I don’t think the past is really what has you so agitated today, is it?”

  
  
He shakes his head and takes a steadying breath. “I miss the person I used to be, and it makes me feel guilty to say that when things are so good now and Dan is happier and we have so much." he blurts.

  
  
He regrets it as soon as the words leave his lips; wishes he could take them back, just hoover them up and swallow them down to be kept with his anxiety, his fears, and all the other things he doesn’t like to let out.

  
  
“Ahh, I see. What parts of young Phil do you miss the most?” she questions. She isn't looking at him in disgust like he's the most ungrateful person in the world and it's enough to ease some of the tension in his shoulders.

  
  
He blows out a breath and runs his fingers through his hair. “I miss being spontaneous. When I first started Youtube, I tried all kinds of things on a whim. Different editing styles, short videos full of weird and random things, things that actually interested me at the time.”

  
  
He rises once again to pace the floor in his growing agitation. “Now it takes me months to make a decision to change my hairstyle! I make lighthearted, pleasant, _**shallow**_ videos because that's the brand I created for myself after… after everything. And it’s not that I don’t enjoy what I make because I do. But sometimes I want to create something different, something weird like I used but I don’t know how to break free from this persona I’ve trapped myself in!”

  
  
He's panting lightly from the force of his words, frozen by the truth of them. He hadn’t realized the depth of his unhappiness or how stagnant he’d felt creatively.

  
  
“You know, they call me things like Robo-Phil or CapitaLester sometimes. I know it's mostly said with fondness but it stings, knowing that I've buried so much of myself away.”

  
  
He drops back into his chair like a puppet with the strings cut, all tired flopping limbs. He looks at Jen, at her calm, understanding face, and continues.

  
  
“I miss the freedom I used to have. To go to the shops without fear of running into viewers. To take Dan on vacation without wondering who might be lurking around every corner, waiting to snap a photo to post on Twitter. We can't even post in real-time on social media because people will try to track us down. Doesn’t matter if we're with friends at dinner or walking with family; inevitably someone will interrupt, asking for a selfie.”

  
  
“It's just… it's not what I asked for all those years ago. And I feel ungrateful and spoiled and awful.” He's tired now and all out of steam from his emotional outburst. He wants nothing more than to just go home. Home, where Dan will be waiting with pizza and anime and an evening full of understanding cuddles.

  
  
Jen’s quiet for a moment, giving him time to close his eyes and breath and center himself once more.

  
  
“I think those are all valid feelings, Phil. You were thrust into a spotlight at quite a young age. A spotlight you really weren't equipped to handle that's turned into this little empire that you and Dan now run. It’s natural to feel resentful of extra demands on your private time or requests for more than you're willing to give.”

  
  
She smiles a little now and leans forward once more. ”Can I make a suggestion? Take this hiatus and use it to your advantage. Go back to making content that pleases yourself first and your viewers second. You're young, you’re financially stable, and you're still the creative young man you were when you started down this path.”

  
“You have plans for a quieter year, a more private year-enjoy it and see where it takes you! There's no rule stating you can’t change your content if you don’t find it fulfilling. Be brave, Phil, and let yourself be happy.”

  
  
She holds out a hand and gives his a squeeze before standing. “Now, I’m sure you're quite ready to be done with me for today. One more coffee before you go? I brought in some lovely pastries…”  
  
**

  
He's too tired for the Tube so he calls an Uber, waiting impatiently on the street for it to arrive. He texts Dan to let him know that he's on his way before climbing into the backseat of the car that arrives.  
  
His driver is thankfully quiet, allowing him to mull over today's session and Jen's parting statement. It wasn’t an easy one and he still has lingering fears and doubts but he feels a bit more hopeful about the future, a little less overwhelmed by the thought of all the upcoming changes.  
  
Maybe, he thinks, the changes don’t have to come all at once or be huge. He could start with a simple background change, could move his filming area from the tiny Amazing Phil set to somewhere a bit brighter or filled with plants. God knows his back will thank him for not slouching down on that bed to remain in frame.  
  
The car comes to a stop and Phil pays before unfolding himself from the back. He lets himself into the building and heads up to the flat, the scent of pizza heavy in the air. He follows his nose and smiles as he unlocks the door and steps inside.  
  
“Honey, I'm home!” he calls up the stairs, stepping out of his shoes as he hangs up his jacket. He’s halfway up when Dan appears at the landing, looking him over carefully as he makes his way up. Whatever he sees on Phil's face has his own softening in understanding, no stranger to difficult therapy days.

 

“It's about time," he says softly, pressing a kiss to Phil's lips. “I was going to start without you. More pizza for me.”

 

Phil fakes a pout as he follows Dan into the lounge where pizza and mindless telly are waiting. The sad pimp blanket is piled onto Phil's side of the sofa, ready to be tucked around him and Phil's throat tightens with emotion.

 

“You’re the best boyfriend, you know?” he asks, pulling Dan over for another kiss.

  
Dan smirks at him and nudges him over to sit. “I know. Now shut up so we can eat.”

  
Phil laughs and flops back onto the sofa, tucking into Dan’s side where they eat pizza and argue over which episode of Free! is the best. Later, as he's cuddled up in Dan’s lap, he thinks that worrying about his future plans can wait just a bit.

  
  
Because **this** is the future he’d once imagined all those years ago… and he wouldn't change a thing.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!
> 
> You can reblog [here](https://capriciouscrab.tumblr.com/post/181584077105/not-what-i-asked-for-rating-g-words-28k) if you'd like. :)


End file.
